Soul's Face
by Windswift
Summary: [DISCONTINUED] The one thing you can't save someone from is themself. But how can you face that truth when it goes against the very foundation of your soul? Ryou didn't mean to drag anyone down with him.
1. Rain

Soul's Face  
  
Windswift: (laughs evilly) Hai, I am back, and with a new fic!!!  
  
Bakura: -_- Just die already . . .  
  
Muse: (twacks him) Now that's not very nice . . . . I had to use a lot of effort to pretend I was working hard on this! Show some respect!  
  
Windswift: -_- anyway. . . .  
  
Here's the before fic notes, they're halfway important at least, so read them sometime!  
  
I want to do this type of story with some other characters, perhaps. After you've seen some of the story, feel free to suggest a character you want me to do. That way, I'll know now what to plan on writing ^^  
  
Yes, this is a chapter fic! It has a plot . . . I think . . . okay, not the traditional plot of "good vs. evil, good triumphs," more like a "um, stuff happens, maybe we'll even make the character get over his inner demons!" type of plot. . . . I've discovered the reason my stories have no plot. It's because our lives our a story, and my writing reflects my life. Yeah, my life has no plot . . . .  
  
The next chapter will have more action and dialog! And it'll also be longer!  
  
Disclaimer: If you look and see which character basically all my stories are centered around, and you look at the main characters of Yu-Gi-Oh, you'll find some inconsistencies. Now what does that tell you?  
  
Random Person: That you made lots of errors when you wrote Yu-Gi-Oh?  
  
Disclaimer: baka  
  
((+)~  
  
Truly, it was amazing how fragile the gentle boy's psyche was.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Back and forth, back and forth, like the waves on the sea, the gentle motion mirrored the far-off days of childhood, when one would be rocked in a mother's lap. A soothing gesture, yes, but a dead one, as far-gone and lifeless as the memory world it occupied.  
  
Back and forth, back and forth, caught in the stream of simple yet fluid motions, unable to be roused to break the pattern. Perfectly balanced, the movements, if unaffected, could go on in oblivious conformity and comforting regularity forever.  
  
Down, down, down, falling forever, suspended in time and space in the world of a heartbeat, that world of limitless but unseen opportunities. After all, in that one moment, doesn't everyone feel tempted to tell themselves they're flying?  
  
Down, down, down, inexorable, unbreakable, yet it symbolized the most fragile of moments. Falling, rising, suspended in the air in that momentary world they were all the same thing.  
  
But when you hit the ground at the end of the journey, was it all the same pain?  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ryou sat on a swing in the park, oblivious to the rain. His sneakers dug into the wet, gritty rocks as he gently pushed himself hither and yon, all his focus devoted to keeping up the perfectly balanced motion, as if his very life depended upon it.  
  
His pale hands surrounded the metal chains loosely and lifelessly, though his grip suggested they would become a lifeline the moment he chose to exert more force. The cold metal links no longer bit into his already frozen skin.  
  
White, wet bangs swayed before his eyes, dancing across the top of his vision. Water dripped from them, some onto his clothes, some onto his face. It didn't matter, he was already too numb to feel the cold water rolling down his fine cheeks and nose, dripping past icy lips, murmuring silently and incoherently, the barest movements signaling screams of anguish trying to escape.  
  
Doe-like brown eyes stared out at the limited gaze of the ground before him, seeing everything, nothing, and a little bit beyond that. Chocolate- brown eyes, except chocolate was warm and good, melting with welcoming hospitality to its flavor, and these eyes were dull, lifeless, and glazed over with a watery sheen as he stared mindlessly into oblivion.  
  
For a moment, he hovered and deliberated between breaking the conformity of his present existence. The moment stretched on into eternity, sweeping the boy into its torrential river of indecision.  
  
Slowly, remotely, as if he had no control and was watching from deep within his soul, his head lifted. It titled agonizingly as if it were a great heavy weight, and continued going as if to snap the slender neck it rested upon.  
  
The rest of his body followed with a slow, deliberate grace. His hands slid further down on the chains, pulling taut as he lowered his back until he was laying horizontally on the swing.  
  
He ignored the damp strands of white hair plastered to his pale forehead, unconsciously blinking he rainwater from his eyes. The rest of the silver tresses swept carelessly over the ground, simultaneously dirtied by the rocks and washed by the storm.  
  
His eyes stared up at the sky, detached fascination running through his mind. How pretty, the weeping pastel watercolor of the sky, the masterpiece of soft light grays and gently tainted whites. Somehow, this seemed more pure to him than the bluest of skies in the most perfect of days.  
  
The rain seemed to slant and spiral from the clouds, reaching out in farther directions the closer it fell to earth as if in outstretched embracing arms. Long, beaded curtains of tears, sewn by angels, waving in the wind, the top renewing eternally, the bottom brushing over his face and kissing the earth.  
  
'Angels must have many things to mourn . . . .'  
  
The swing shifted slightly, and he felt himself slowly falling off. Deciding it was reason enough, he used it as initiative to pull himself back up into his former sitting position.  
  
The swing moved slowly of its own accord from the effort he had used to sit up. Back and forth, nothing and eternity encompassed in one ordinary motion.  
  
He anchored his wet shoes into the muddy rocks again, raising a miniature flood beneath him, welling up from the ground to the indents his feet had made.  
  
The only true way to experience something is to succumb fully and sacrifice yourself to it.  
  
The cool rain flowed down his chilled skin, but he no longer noticed it. He had become the rain, the cold.  
  
Raincoats only got in the way.  
  
((+)~  
  
Ta da!!! Review, onegai! Since I have the next chapter written (though not typed up, currently) I'll withhold it until I get at least _some_ reviews. So, if you want it fast, recommend it to people and force 'em to review! (I'm so kind, aren't I? ^^ )  
  
Yes, I do drag other characters in. Just be patient . . . .  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


	2. Outings

Soul's Face  
  
A special and longer than usual update just in time to honor Ryou's birthday! ^.~ My tribute to one of my favorite silvery-haired bishounen. And since I don't know when Bakura's b-day is, I'll just include him too. ^^  
  
Shinju: (glomps Bakura)  
  
Bakura: Eeeevile . . . .  
  
Shinju: Fine then, I'll leave you alone today, and attack you on MY birthday!  
  
Bakura: . . . . You aren't going to let me win, are you?  
  
Ryou: Of course not, she's the one with the authoress powers.  
  
Shinju: ^^ Yep! And so Ryou turns from 16 to . . . . 16 X_x  
  
Warning: Beware the powers of friendship, and a mild Anzu rant on immaturity!  
  
Japanese:  
  
Jii-chan- Grandpa  
  
Daijoubu- I'm okay (it can also be used as a question, "Are you okay?")  
  
Gomen nassai- I'm sorry  
  
-kun- an "honorific," a suffix for boys younger than you or that you're familiar with  
  
-chan- another "honorific," a suffix for girls younger than you or that you're familiar with  
  
Mou- honestly, I have never seen this word translated. I get the idea it's just a filler word. I know what context it's used in, but not the translation.  
  
Nani- What  
  
((+)~  
  
It would have devastated Yugi's foundation of optimistic and hopeful innocence to know.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yugi Motou's smile was a perpetually cheerful one, undaunted by school and other childhood tortures, as long as he had his friends by his side.  
  
"I am never going to another movie with Jou and Honda again!" Anzu was proclaiming to him. "It was bad enough that I don't enjoy the horror movies they like to choose, _and_ I had to sit through those two bickering all through it. But afterwards when I went to use the restroom to wash off all the butter from the popcorn off my hands, Jou had the _nerve_ to jump out from the shadows and scare me! I smacked him over the head with my purse, of course, and it serves him right! But his thick head cracked my favorite key chain that I had put on it," she sighed mournfully.  
  
"Gosh, I wish you could have come too, Yugi, but I guess there'll be other days when you don't have to help your jii-chan at the Game Shop."  
  
Yugi had been stifling his laughter at the narrative behind his hand, and answered, "Yeah, and there'll probably be better movies too!"  
  
Honda slid into a chair beside them, having entered the classroom while they were talking.  
  
"You wouldn't have to worry about the movie being interesting enough. Jou's antics are always more entertaining to watch."  
  
"Hey, don't mock me when I ain't here to defend myself." Jou appeared behind Honda, lightly smacking his friend upside the head.  
  
Yugi smiled to himself; life was good.  
  
Anzu scolded the miscreants before they could get into a real fight, trying to make them behave maturely.  
  
Ryou entered the classroom unnoticed, except by Yugi's amethyst orbs that happened to be roving in the direction of the door. The silver-haired boy took his seat behind Yugi-tachi, smiling slightly at Jou and Honda's fooling around.  
  
Seeing as his other three friends were preoccupied, Yugi turned around in his chair to greet Ryou.  
  
"Ohayo, Bakura-kun!" he chirped, a customary greeting that he managed to make seem special instead of overused.  
  
"Ohayo, Yugi-kun," Ryou replied softly, lifting his head from the task of putting his books away.  
  
"Are you alright, Bakura-kun?" Yugi tilted his head slightly sideways in confusion and concern, blond bangs brushing his cheeks. "You look a little flushed."  
  
"Daijoubu, it's just a slight cold. I got caught in the rainstorm yesterday," he replied reassuringly.  
  
Reluctant belief shone in the boy's bright violet eyes, but he accepted the other's answer. "Okay, if you say so."  
  
Ryou sniffled slightly, but smiled nonetheless. "Really, I'm fine. You needn't worry over my sake. Rather, we should be studying for the quiz in history today."  
  
"Aw crap, I forgot!" Jou exclaimed, having overheard the last part of their conversation. "Thanks, Bakura!"  
  
"I'm glad I could remind you," he replied, chocolate-brown eyes radiating warm honesty.  
  
Opening his book, he faded back into his customary quiet, listening to the others quiz each other and letting them dominate the conversations. After all, why fix what already works?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jou, in all honesty, had been trying to use tact and strategy.  
  
He had watched, studied, Yugi do it. The shorter boy made it look so easy!  
  
Frustrated, his fingers pummeled all of the buttons.  
  
Then again, Jou wasn't the King of Games like Yugi, now was he?  
  
The game's avatar danced wildly across the screen, doing combinations of moves no one had ever thought up before, or attempted to execute. The blond finally stopped to rest his fingers, and raised his eyes back to the screen again.  
  
All the enemies were gone.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
He did a victory dance. Yep, he had pulled a Jou. [1]  
  
Yugi applauded. "Good job, Jou-kun!"  
  
"Nah, it was just a lucky shot," Honda waved the victory away boredly.  
  
"Luck?! That was pure skill, man!"  
  
"Oh Skilled One, you forgot to pause the game while you were yelling in Honda-kun's face. You're dead now," Anzu commented dryly.  
  
"Gees, I can't ever catch a break." Jou stared mournfully at the flashing game over screen.  
  
"It's alright. If you did it once, all the more reason you should be able to do it again," the ever-optimistic Yugi piped up.  
  
"Yes, Jou, he's right. It shouldn't be hard if it was truly skill that got you that far in the first place," Ryou spoke up in his soft voice.  
  
Jou's face fell. "Great, now even Bakura's mocking me! What's the world coming to?"  
  
"I dunno, but I know I'm leaving here and coming to a place with _food_."  
  
"You and Jou, always thinking with your stomachs, Honda," Anzu rebuked playfully.  
  
"Well I happen to like the way he thinks." Jou stuck his nose up in the air in what he thought was a dignified but offended pose.  
  
Yugi had to stifle his chuckles behind a small hand. "Do you guys want to come over to my house?"  
  
One chorus of "Sure!" later, the five headed out of the arcade door and towards the Game Shop.  
  
Jou was walking along, listening to Anzu and Honda bicker when a quiet voice spoke up beside him.  
  
"Gomen nassai, Jou-kun, I didn't mean to insult you back at the arcade."  
  
Jou shrugged it away. "Nah, it's okay, I knew you didn't mean anything by it."  
  
Ryou shook his head. "Mou, even if you knew that it was unintentional, the comment could still hurt. That's why I apologized."  
  
Jou's bright amber eyes stared down into Ryou's soulful brown ones, which held honest sincerity. The boy was truly concerned that he had wounded Jou's feelings earlier.  
  
"That's very considerate of you, Bakura," he replied cautiously, trying to resolve the conversation with grace. The boy's persistence was kind of unnerving him, but he didn't want to hurt the white-haired teen's feelings.  
  
"No more than it should be," Ryou replied, almost a whisper.  
  
"Ah." Jou nodded his head sagely, pretending to know what Ryou was talking about.  
  
Ryou left it at that, merging once more into silence. Jou watched him out of the corner of his eye as he walked. The boy's whole posture seemed to be subdued, suddenly weary. The blond felt a little guilty; he left something to be desired in the department of social tact.  
  
"Hey, are you okay?"  
  
Startled, Ryou jerked his head up and out of his reverie. "Nani? Oh, I'm fine."  
  
Jou paid a bit more attention to the boy's face this time when he spoke, trying to read the expression behind the words, suddenly feeling a protective urge towards the quiet one. Obviously Ryou wasn't going to say if something was bothering him. This called for slightly more drastic measures.  
  
Jou stepped abruptly in front of the boy, cutting off his path. Ryou stopped and blinked, protesting slightly in confusion.  
  
Jou ignored him, slipping a hand under the boy's bangs and pressing it to his forehead.  
  
"You feel a little warm to me."  
  
Ryou smiled disarmingly. "Jou-kun, I'm fine. As I already told Yugi-kun, it's just a little cold. I got caught in the rain yesterday. You can relax."  
  
Jou stepped out of the boy's way, mumbling, "Gomen nassai."  
  
"It's alright. You had good intentions," Ryou replied quietly.  
  
Anzu's voice suddenly rang out ahead of them, bringing them out of the uncomfortable silence. "Hey, guys, we're already here! You'd better catch up before Honda-kun eats everything!"  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming! Fend him off with something, Yug'!"  
  
Ryou smiled and laughed to himself, keeping his unhurried stride. Life was good.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
[1] Originally "To pull a [insert authoress' true name here]" came from my brother and me when we used to play Nintendo. I would get frustrated and just randomly press all the buttons, and sometimes it actually worked! The best time was when he was facing a lot of hard enemies he couldn't defeat, and he started pulling a Shinju and he actually defeated all of them that way ^^ it made me feel so special!  
  
((+)~  
  
Another chapter done! Yay!  
  
Review, onegai! It helps me with the tedious task of typing . . . .  
  
-Windswift Shinju  
  
NOTICE!!! It has been brought to my attention that some people can't access chapter three. If you'd like to read it, send me an email and ask nicely, and I'll send you the chapter. And you can send a review in an email back ^^ 


	3. Pilgrimage

Soul's Face  
  
It's Phantom Friday! ^^ Meep-sah, what fun! We sang stuff from Phantom of the Opera today in Chorus. It even inspired a nice pic idea. . . . But it's something non-Ryou related for once! (gasps of shock) So . . . . if anybody cares to see the pic when it's done or hear more about Phantom Friday, send me an email or review or something ^^  
  
Nice long chapter for you guys today! Aren't you glad? ^^  
  
Disclaimer: I can't say I own Yu-Gi-Oh, because I will get sued. I can't say I don't own it, because I might be using reverse psychology. Let's just sit here in silence for a moment then. and all open up the review boxes so we can type stuff as we read ^^  
  
Warnings: Use of a stupid annoying song. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE IF IT GETS STUCK IN YOUR HEAD!  
  
Some use of chibi-speak later on, which means all r's have been changed to w's  
  
Japanese:  
  
Tenshi- angel  
  
Oyasumi- good night  
  
Quote for the chapter: "Never say good bye, instead say good night, for I will see you once again." (not sure who said it or if I changed it, but the original idea was not mine)  
  
((+)~  
  
But the truth is, you can't save someone from themselves  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the day . . ."  
  
Sunrise crept stealthily across the horizon, spreading its rays greedily to convert all else to its beauty. Glass barriers did not stay it, could not prevent it from dancing across the pale face in a pink flush, and tainting the white hair with a blood red. The blood red of sunrise, the sacrifice of a new beginning.  
  
It melted the last of the dew sliding off the windows like rain, preparing to warm the land for the new day.  
  
The bus moved ever onwards, blatantly oblivious to the world's dramas. This early in the morning found it occupied by only one person, a silvery-haired boy who was falling asleep in his seat, his gentle breaths frosting the window against the cool morning air rushing past outside. The constant vibrating lulled him to drift off, with his forehead pressed against the soothing coldness of the glass.  
  
The wheels rolled onwards, continuing in their cycle as if nothing else mattered, until some outside force of commotion came to shake them drastically out of order. In their own way, they were as careless as the sleeping passenger, as careless as the driver who swore never to get involved in the lives of his rides ever again.  
  
The child could have been homeless, a run away, a drug addict, a juvenile delinquent, or had some other problems, but the driver resolved to treat him like any other everyday normal person, if there really was such a thing. Yet, he couldn't help feeling a little pity - the boy looked so pathetic and harmless.  
  
Appearances weren't everything.  
  
He steeled his nerves, sternly telling himself it was none of his business.  
  
The sunrise continued its domination, its interaction with the boy fulfilled and ceased.  
  
And the wheels of the bus went round and round, round and round, round and round . . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Large doe-brown eyes blinked open, heavy from sleep. There was another world around him, with a few people occupying it, but it was irrelevant to the boy, so long as they were minding their own business.  
  
He turned his attention out past the window, watching a more rural landscape present itself to him as it flickered past. He zoned out for a moment, still watching listlessly, everything forgotten as soon as it reached his eyes.  
  
He would have to do this, every year. He would go this path, just because of the ending.  
  
He smiled slightly to himself. This was _his_ journey, his trip to his mecca, his . . . pilgrimage.  
  
Pilgrimage - yes, he was a pilgrim on a journey.  
  
He'd learned about pilgrims once. They had broken away from the injustices to find freedom. Really, they'd been shunted from their homeland, but it felt better to pretend it was your own defiant decision.  
  
But that didn't matter, for he could return to his home, if only for a brief period at least, even if he didn't belong there anymore. But a brief moment was long enough.  
  
Only two important things were left in his homeland, and he could be reassured that they at least would never abandon him.  
  
For they were already gone.  
  
It's been said that you have to lose something in order to know its true value. He'd lost a lot, but only those two things seemed to have any real value to him.  
  
It had been an awfully high cost to learn that.  
  
He refocused his eyes, staring not out the window, but at it, at his reflection.  
  
A face, pale and drawn, was presented to him, hiding and shadowed under a mane of white hair. A flush crept across the pale cheeks, adding the only color other than the pale pink lips and the brown eyes.  
  
Said orbs were empty looking, showing a depth but hiding what was inside them, and graced by a slight haunted look, but that perhaps only came from his new-found fanatic obsession.  
  
Closing his eyes, he began to wait again, with the patience of one who has no other options.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He jerked awake again, realizing the bus had stopped. He had arrived. He gave a silent nod of thanks to the driver as he left, grateful for the ride and the lack of disturbance. He had needed to be left alone.  
  
He walked along the sidewalks, head hanging and staring at the ground. His feet automatically walked a memorized path, though now it felt foreign to him. Even, unwanted. Sure, the society around him tolerated him, but they didn't accept him anymore either, if they ever did before.  
  
'A prophet will always be rejected in his hometown.' He wasn't a prophet, but . . . .  
  
He shook his head to clear it, having reached his destination.  
  
His feet made no sound on the grass, the vibrant blades springing back up in his wake. He counted the steps in his mind, the harsh but sacred cadence taking complete control of his conscious. He had never seen any part of the journey, save the entrance and heart of the graveyard.  
  
Bakura Ryou knelt down before the twin graves resting under the shade of a weeping willow. Pale and slender fingers traced the lines of the names engraved on the headstones, gently wiping the dirt from the crevices. Bakura Angeline [1], Bakura Amane.  
  
The sun, now high, shone brightly over the little glade, the sky a perfect blue, just the way they would have wanted it to be, rejoicing, not mourning. A gentle breeze tugged at his white hair and swept the willow branches over the stones.  
  
Yes, just the way they would have wanted it to be.  
  
He reached into the school bag he'd brought with him, pulling out a few objects.  
  
He took first a profuse mess of roses, wild looking ones, leaves and all, and set them on Angeline's grave.  
  
"From your garden, okaa-san," he explained. "I saved a clipping when we moved, and planted it there, though I can't make them grow as well as you did." He quickly gave one of the flowers a delicate kiss, inhaling for a brief moment the scent of the perfume his mother liked to wear.  
  
He then drew forth an envelope with reverence, stuffed thick with letters, and ran a finger gently over the plain name. To his dismay, it left a red smear over the kanji - he must have pricked his finger on a thorn. It felt like a bad omen, but the name still shown through, making him feel slightly more relieved.  
  
"I came back, 'Mane-chan, like I promised I would. A lot has happened this past year. Father sends his love." He laid a small rose blossom at the bottom of her gravestone, at the feet of the stone tenshi adorning it.  
  
"Oyasumi, sister . . . . sleep well . . . ."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ryou sat with his head resting on his knees, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, unmoving on the curb of a sidewalk somewhere between the cemetery and the bus stop, where his feverish body had decided to collapse. He shivered violently for a few moments, but it didn't cause him to regret coming - nothing would have stopped him.  
  
All he could do now was to wait for it to pass. He didn't have any other choice - all he had brought was the flowers, a letter, and enough bus fare for a round trip, and no one knew he was out here. Besides, his father was halfway around the world and his friends would still be at school.  
  
Someone pertly tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Why awe you cwying?"  
  
Ryou made the effort to raise his head, and stared weakly into the face of a little girl. Her blue eyes sparkled, blond hair braided in pigtails, but despite her childish appearance, she was quick enough to notice something was wrong.  
  
"You should come home with me, it's not faw. My mommy always knows how to make me feel bettew, maybe you should bowwow hew fow now."  
  
He stared at her in confusion for a few more moments before struggling to push himself to his feet. The five-year-old grabbed his hand, unknowingly lending him strength to continue down the block to her home.  
  
The child pushed open the front door, excitedly yelling. "Mommy, I made a new fwiend! You should see him, he doesn't look vewy good wight now." Ryou leaned against the doorframe, letting his head droop again, unsure of his welcome.  
  
There was a sound of hurried footsteps, and a young woman appeared, wiping her hands on a flowery apron.  
  
"I'm so sorry, my daughter is perhaps a little too friendly, you see, and I hope you aren't offended. She didn't bother you terribly, did she?" She paused, seeing that she had gotten no response.  
  
"Sir . . . .?" she tried again cautiously.  
  
She lifted his chin in a gentle hand, and stared into his eyes, deep brown and glittering feverishly.  
  
"Oh, you poor dear!" she exclaimed, hurrying to help him inside, maternal instincts taking over when she saw he was naught but a child, and an ill one at that.  
  
She sat him carefully on the sofa, resting a cool hand over his forehead. Too tired to protest, he let her fret over him, for her peace of mind. Upon coming to the conclusion that it was just a fever and nothing more, the woman became a scolding mother.  
  
"Tut tut, what were you thinking, wandering around sick like that! You're lucky someone found you and took pity on you." She checked his pulse, efficient and admonishing at the same time.  
  
The little girl came back with a damp, cool washcloth. "You'd bettew listen to Mommy so you get bettew, owr I won't be youw fwiend anymore, Mistew."  
  
Ryou managed to chuckle weakly at the comment. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The door opened quietly, the woman's head appearing in the crevice of light. Seeing the occupant was asleep, she gracefully slipped through the opening with the practiced ease of a mother. Smiling gently, she sat down at the end of the bed, gazing at the figure in it.  
  
The boy's breath came slow and peacefully in sleep, the moonlight from the window coloring his face and hair shades of silver.  
  
She ran a gentle hand through the soft, pale locks. He seemed so much younger now.  
  
After he'd been sick the day before, he'd spent all of this day helping her with chores and errands, insisting that he should pay her back for her hospitality. He was also wonderful with her daughter. Any mother would be truly blessed to have him as a son.  
  
Her face formed a small frown, and her fingers moved now to stroke his cheek.  
  
Apparently, this one didn't have a mother. Her heart felt for the woman, and for him. Though he hadn't said anything, she could tell he was all alone. She didn't know his name, nor where he came from, but for a while at least, she had alleviated his pain, physical and spiritual.  
  
She got up, closing the door gently behind her.  
  
The boy's lips moved silently in sleep.  
  
"Oyasumi, 'Mane-chan. . . ."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
[1] I don't think anyone knows her real name, but I like this one best, and I needed to use one. I got it from Wingleader Sora Jade, so give credit where credit is due, and that means not to me.  
  
((+)~  
  
Wow, that was long, for me at least. Well, review, onegai! ^^ The arrival of new chapters depends upon it! I'm withholding updates until I feel I've gotten enough reviews! Mwahahaha, the Chapter Nazi strikes!!!  
  
Oh yeah, for anyone who cares, all the Phantom Friday stuff was because my teacher was telling us about it, and it reminded me of Yu-gi-oh stuff. Christine is all possessed by the Phantom, and yeah. . . . . (sees no one is listening) oh well, Sadiera will want to hear the Phantom rant ^^ just a warning, Sadiera-chan!  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


	4. Betrayal

Soul's Face  
  
IMPORTANT!!! Anyone who couldn't read chapter 3, send me an email and I'll send it to you! I'll even copy and paste the whole long chapter over an IM window if I have to . . . ^^ that's how much I appreciate you guys! As you know, Sakuuya. . . . .  
  
Note - in the Japanese version, they don't call Yugi's other half Yami Yugi. And since I'm in a Japanese mood for this fic, check the list of Japanese words to see what he'll be called, okies?  
  
No more discriminating between the people I pick on! Mwahaha, free torture for all!!! See, I can be cruel to people other than Ryou. . . .  
  
You know those sentences that begin each chapter? Yeah, those have a purpose. They're intended to be read collectively, and they go with the summary of the fic. So . . . just in case you were wondering ^^  
  
Japanese:  
  
Mou hitori no Yugi - the other Yugi (Yami)  
  
Mou hitori no boku - the other me (which would be Yugi speaking about Yami)  
  
((+)~  
  
But he didn't intend to let anyone know  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Yugi sat at his desk, amethyst eyes intently focused on the desk next to his. Jou and another boy were having a duel before classes started for the day. It was quite a close match, but Yugi had faith that Jounouchi could win. After all, he always had faith in his friends, and they had faith in themselves.  
  
His ears suddenly registered the noise of someone sitting down behind him, over the volume of Jou's boasts. Yugi turned around, gasping slightly when he recognized the figure.  
  
"Bakura-kun! Where were you? You missed a few days of school, which you never do, and when I went to your house to see if you were ill, because you had looked pretty bad the other day, no one ever answered! I was so worried!" the shorter boy exclaimed, all in a single breath.  
  
"Yugi-kun, everything is fine," Ryou reassured calmly. "My father had arranged for me to stay with my relatives for a few days, but he had forgotten to tell me. Gomen, but it all came up too suddenly for me to tell you before I left."  
  
"Oh!" Yugi blushed slightly at his own over-reaction. Of course Bakura-kun was alright, he would have told them if anything wasn't. But Yugi had been justified in his worry, for mou hitori no Yugi had had his suspicions about the spirit of the Ring, although the spirit had been quiet lately. Too quiet, to mou hitori no Yugi's mind.  
  
"I'm just glad nothing bad had really happened to you." Warm relief was evident in the innocent voice.  
  
A guilty look passed over Ryou's features. "Gomen nassai, Yugi-kun, I hadn't meant to make you worry so."  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Yugi replied with a grin. "Now, why don't we watch Jou-kun finish this duel?"  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Yugi, Anzu, Jou, and Honda often hung out at the Game Shop after school. True to this habit, that's where they were currently at, working on their homework in the living room.  
  
Jou set down his pen. He couldn't take any more schoolwork, he needed a distraction! His mind wandered a bit, and he suddenly remembered something he had wanted to bring up the other day.  
  
"Has anybody noticed Bakura actin' kinda weird lately?"  
  
Anzu's retort of "be quiet and do your work" died on her lips, as her own and everyone else's heads flew up, the same thought running through their minds: the Ring spirit. Homework was forgotten.  
  
'Wow, that sure got a reaction.'  
  
Jou shook his head. "Nah, not like that."  
  
Yugi blinked. "He hasn't seemed any different to me."  
  
"I dunno. . . . when just me an' him were talking the other night, he seemed kinda depressed. It was strange," Jou replied.  
  
"Well, which night was it?" Honda prompted.  
  
"The day we all went to the arcade. He was talking to me on the way over to the Game Shop."  
  
Anzu tapped her chin thoughtfully. "He didn't look like he was feeling very well, perhaps that's what you saw, Jounouchi."  
  
"Are you sayin' I can't tell when one of my own buddies is upset?"  
  
"No, Jou, I -"  
  
"Should we really be butting into Bakura's business like this?" Honda interrupted. "I mean, maybe the guy was just having a bad day. I feel protective towards him, like a brother, just like the rest of us, but wouldn't Bakura get a bit upset if he knew we were blowing one conversation out of proportion like this?"  
  
"Honda-kun's right. If something was wrong, Bakura-kun would tell us. He knows we're his friends, and we'd help him through anything." Yugi looked at the faces of each of his friends for confirmation of his statement.  
  
A frown passed over Anzu's face. "He seems to me to be the kind of person who likes to keep his problems to himself. After all, he's never really had anyone in his life to worry over him. And he doesn't always solve his problems in the conventional way, either. He's content to just take whatever life hits him with as long as no one else gets hurt by it."  
  
"He seemed perfectly cheerful to me . . . ." But doubts were running through Yugi's mind. Was Bakura-kun really depressed, and if so, why didn't he notice it? Didn't Bakura-kun believe in his friends, to help him? Didn't he believe in himself, to solve his problems?  
  
"Disappearin' for three days seems pretty fishy to me. And polite, concerned Bakura not having time before he left, or the whole while he was staying with his relatives, to make a simple phone call explaining his absence?" Jou pondered aloud.  
  
"Did he think we wouldn't notice?" Anzu worried. "Was he trying to get away from us? Or did something terrible happen to him while he was gone?"  
  
"Maybe he really did go visit family. Maybe it did just slip his mind." Honda shrugged.  
  
"Don't you care at all?! Something could be really wrong with Bakura-kun!" Anzu cried.  
  
Honda's hazel eyes hardened. "Of course I care! But sometimes, the only thing you can do is let someone fight their own demons. If Bakura truly _wanted_ us to know, he'd tell us. Give him a little credit, a little faith. He's growing up, he's not really a child anymore." His part spoken, he got up, gathered his books, and left.  
  
The three sat in silence, half stunned, half worried.  
  
"So, Honda-kun too feels something is wrong. . . ." Yugi murmured.  
  
Anzu shook her head gently, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I shouldn't have accused him like that."  
  
Jou got up solemnly, and began packing his things. "I'd better get home. If I see Bakura, I'll probably just treat him like I normally do. If I tried to talk to him, I'd probably upset him even more. I already know I lack all tact in dealing with the quiet kid."  
  
Anzu also began gathering her things in a rather subdued manner. She nodded to Jou's statement. "I'm afraid that I might make him angry, like I did Honda-kun. And if he's already depressed, who knows what rash thing he might do!"  
  
Yugi swallowed. "Alright then, I'll see you guys later."  
  
"Bye, Yug'."  
  
"Sayonara, Yugi-kun."  
  
He listened to the faint tinkling of the bell on the door as they left.  
  
Bakura-kun didn't have the faith in himself to help himself, or the faith in his friends to ask them for assistance or confide in them.  
  
Honda-kun didn't have the faith in his friends to save Bakura-kun.  
  
Jou-kun didn't have the faith in himself to help Bakura-kun.  
  
Anzu-chan didn't have the faith in herself to consol her friends.  
  
Had they really had faith in each other and the heart of the cards all along, or had Yugi just been fooled, as he had been fooled to think Bakura- kun was fine?  
  
His head dropped forward until it rested tiredly against the coffee table, a gesture of weary defeat. If there was nothing left to have faith in, what was the point of hope . . .?  
  
((+)~  
  
Review, peoples! If you thought it was so good in the previous chapters, why don't you ever review again? Even just to say that you're still reading it?  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


	5. Shame

Soul's Face  
  
Sort of, okay, very, short. X_x There wasn't much I could do that wasn't repetitive. . . . so sue my Muse! This chapter was written just before she went on a pout fit and I had to get a new muse (who I'll be introducing next chapter ^^ )  
  
Lucky peoples, I got an excuse to update sooner for you! ^^ This is for WSJ's birthday! I was going to write her a fic. . . but.. . . ask my muses what happened, I don't know. So, an update excuse! Enjoy!  
  
Warnings: Beware the possessed little dolls!!!  
  
Quote for the chapter:  
  
"I am the mask you wear, it's me they hear." - Christine, Phantom of the Opera  
  
Fits, ne?  
  
Japanese:  
  
Yugi-tachi - Yugi and company  
  
Tomodachi - friend  
  
((+)~  
  
His deepest secrets he could never admit, all the more haunting because they were truth  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Wood, carved in detail, everything perfection. Slender fingers ran over the petite figurine, memorizing the features he'd once known elsewhere.  
  
He turned it over, inspecting the personage glorified in wood.  
  
The fate of everything, resting on a game. Life itself was but a game, after all. The other players might ignore him because he appeared to be losing, but he wasn't gone yet. Far from it. . . . he still had the power to affect play.  
  
Not that it mattered, for the final victory was never his. After all, Yugi had never had to sacrifice someone to win. Not that he himself counted as a _someone_, per se, but it still mattered in the negative sense.  
  
Not that it wasn't noble, the ways he tried to help achieve victory. But it could be considered foolish, surely there were other ways to win.  
  
However, it was the only way _he_ could defeat the obstacles. And as the problems were really his own in the first place, it was his duty to solve them the best that he could.  
  
Besides, he was still alive now, was he not?  
  
He set the wooden doll up on the shelf, taking down another one. It was clothed like a medieval knight, holding a sword and shield bravely. Even if the details didn't truly mirror life, it looked hauntingly as if somewhere deep inside, the item possessed a soul.  
  
He laughed softly at that thought, though it was a sad and bitter sound.  
  
All he'd wanted to do was play a game with his friend. You couldn't really blame him, he'd been so lonely. He hadn't known what would happen.  
  
Yet. . . . he felt guilty. Weak, people called him, and weak he was, too weak to stop any of it. Too cowardly to prevent it, to learn from those mistakes.  
  
Was he that unworthy of friends?  
  
Yes, he'd learned his lesson now, though every once in a while it defeated him. If he wasn't close to anyone, he couldn't put them in danger. But Yugi- tachi was too persistant. . . .  
  
The question was, did they really see him as a friend, or did they want to protect everyone else from him?  
  
He couldn't tell, torn between hope, self-pity, and the burden placed upon his chest. A tone rang accusingly in his ears.  
  
/You said you wanted to be my friend/  
  
/We were going to play a simple game/  
  
Other voices joined it as it grew in magnitude, haunting his ears, plaguing his soul.  
  
/What was wrong with you?/  
  
/You couldn't stop it/  
  
/Weakling!/  
  
/Let me go!/  
  
/This is cruel and low, even for you/  
  
/Tomodachi, you said/  
  
/You laughed in my face!/  
  
/Pathetic. . . ./  
  
/Why should I pay for your sins?!/  
  
He dropped the wooden figure, shaking his head wildly to clear it of the screaming as he ran out of the room.  
  
He took several shaky, deep breaths, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.  
  
It was true. He hadn't tried to stop any of it. And his will wasn't strong enough to keep people away from him, where they couldn't get hurt.  
  
Yugi and the spirit of his Puzzle had managed to end it. Not himself. And if he tried hard enough, he could probably reverse the dark spell.  
  
But he had never bother to attempt it.  
  
All the accusations. . . . they were true.  
  
Probably the only reason Yugi-tachi came near him was because they only knew the end of the story, not the beginning, not the epilogue.  
  
Slowly, he got up, closing and locking the door to the room.  
  
He was never going to be rid of it, but it would be best not to think about it for a while.  
  
You couldn't forget the past, no matter what people said. It affected your future, was a part of who you are in the present. Who could forsake their soul, their very being for a clean page?  
  
But the naïveté of the fresh start wouldn't get rid of past troubles.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The figurine lay on the floor, broken in two.  
  
A small wind ran through the deserted room, almost like a haunting whisper.  
  
/You can't run away. . . . or we'll never be free . . . ./  
  
((+)~  
  
Okay, I don't know how familiar people are with the stuff that happened earlier on in the Japanese version, so I'll try and share my limited knowledge with you, and explain my standpoint.  
  
First off, I heard somewhere that there's a room in Ryou's apartment full of little dolls, some of them being Monster World game pieces. This is the room he's in.  
  
Monster World is some kind of RPG game that Ryou liked to play. However, sometime after he got the Sennen Ring, everytime he tried to play it with his friends, they would later be in a coma state and Ryou wouldn't remember what had happened. Basically, Yami Bakura took over, sealed the person's soul in their game avatar, and I guess he won the game. This is all very vague for me, but I believe the general idea is accurate.  
  
I've also heard that Yami Bakura tried to help his hikari get friends by sealing their souls in more dolls. I don't know if the people ever got set free, or what.  
  
So, now you know the info I'm working with. If you have some stuff to correct or add to it, I'd love to hear! Email or review, either works. Basically all my info had come from reading it in author's notes on fanfiction, from shrines on the web, or conclusions derived from manga pictures with kanji I can't read all over it. . . . . .  
  
Review onegai! I'm withholding chapters until you do ^^ such a nice person, ne?  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


	6. Revelation

Soul's Face  
  
Alright, I've deemed I have sufficient reviews to update ^^ Arigato to all of you!!! (throws confetti)  
  
Shinju: My Muse is off on a pout fit, so . . . ^^ (places a small wooden doll on the computer desk) Meet lil White Magic User Bakura avatar!  
  
Avatar: Ano . . . Konnichi wa?  
  
Shinju: So kawaii!!!! ^^ And he even inspired a nice long chapter for me!  
  
Avatar: (blushes)  
  
Shinju: He's so nice to me ^^ And my only good friend in study hall  
  
Avatar: -_- I sense your "my preciousssss" coming up. If you do, I'll whap you with my staff.  
  
Shinju: ^^ Telepathic powers. Anyway . . . . Let's get back to this fic now, shall we?  
  
Warnings: Uh . . . flying cherry blossoms!!! (ducks) And overuse of the word tact for lack of a synonym I liked. . . . And yesh, Honda's kinda strange. . .  
  
Japanese:  
  
Sakura- cherry blossom  
  
Nani- what  
  
Sayonara- bye  
  
((+)~  
  
For even well intentions may go awry and spring hidden traps.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Honda stuffed his hands in his pockets, paying no real attention to where he was going. The park was nice this time of year, definitely helping to clear his mind.  
  
He'd been hanging around Jou too long, now he couldn't keep his temper in check. He snickered softly at that thought.  
  
But, really, he should have snapped like that. Now he would wander about brooding for a few hours, then go back and apologize. Keeps life relatively simple. . . . .  
  
The ends of his tan trench coat [mwahaha, the trench coats. . . . Yeah, I'm shutting up now] fluttered out slightly behind him as he turned sharply off the path, heading to a more secluded part of the park.  
  
There was a pond down there someplace, Honda remembered. Nice places, ponds. . .  
  
He let his mind continue to ramble on rather senselessly in that strain as he tilted his head back, staring at where the sky met the treetops.  
  
Odd, he thought. That tree seems to have a lot of empty space in it, almost no branches on that part. He tilted his head slightly, to get a different angle of the patch of blue sky behind the blossoms and leaves.  
  
'Hey, wait a second . . .' His suspicions grew as he got closer. Sure enough, there was someone sitting up there. Jeans and a sky blue jacket, combined with their pale hair and skin blending among the flowers, had camouflaged the figure from a distance.  
  
The boy was sitting cross-legged in the tree, staring into nowhere through the screen of leaves and sakura blossoms.  
  
Honda moved towards the base of the trunk, neck craned upwards to get a better look.  
  
"Bakura?"  
  
The boy started, his head jerking down.  
  
"Oh, konnichi wa, Honda-kun." He gave a half-smile. "Were you standing there long?"  
  
Honda laughed. "No, actually. Only long enough to debate whether or not I'd make you fall out of the tree."  
  
"Planning to join me, or should I climb down from my perch?"  
  
"No need." Honda pulled himself up into the tree, sitting on a branch on the opposite side.  
  
You could tell a lot about a person from their eyes, he had realized. Usually, the purest expression of their emotions rested in them. And people, he had also learned, were always more than one thing, complex in personality and mind. And they were hard to describe or put into words.  
  
But somehow, with Bakura he had come to a silent understanding.  
  
The boy didn't mind, and was somewhat reassured, by Honda's "older brotherly" presence. But you just didn't bug the white-haired boy, didn't pry into his business despite your concern. He was a private person, and could be a rather stubborn and noble ass at times; he'd ask for your help when he wanted it.  
  
So Honda stood back, watched over him, and would offer support until he was truly needed.  
  
So Ryou, in turn, came to an understanding with Honda.  
  
Relieved that the other boy wouldn't interfere if he let any of his problems slide, Ryou was more vocal around him, letting Honda read his emotions. Honda didn't like to be kept in the dark, and Ryou didn't mind allowing the brunette to read him.  
  
Honda was loyal in this way, though he didn't show it off as much as Jou did, therefore not earning himself any dog comments. It was just the kind of quiet and background support Ryou was comfortable with.  
  
Honda plucked one of the sakura blossoms off the tree, twirling it around between his fingers.  
  
A sudden impish grin lit up his face, and he flicked the flower at Ryou, hitting him right between the eyes.  
  
The boy ran a gentle hand through his bangs, the pale fingers removing the offending blossom from his silver tresses. Brown eyes locked into Honda's won, as he tried to keep up a reproachful glare.  
  
"Mou, Honda-kun, you're so mean, throwing things at me." The grin broke through, illuminating his face, as he swiftly flicked the flower back at the taller boy.  
  
Honda caught it in midair just before it hit his face, much to Ryou's chagrin.  
  
"You've ruined it," he said, almost mournfully.  
  
Honda winked and shook his head. He opened his hand, revealing the flower to be un-rumpled, looking even untouched.  
  
Ryou's eyebrows rose slightly, and though his expression hadn't changed much, Honda could tell the boy was thoroughly pleased. It was beyond him why something so simple delighted the chocolate-eyed boy so much, but he was happy to do it.  
  
He gently laid his hand on top of Honda's, slender fingers grasping almost reverently at the delicate pink petals. But the light in his eyes dimmed, fading slowly, and he knocked the blossom to the ground. He retreated back to his branch of the tree, drawing his knees to his chin and lapsing back into silence.  
  
Honda blinked, but stayed quiet, curious. Bakura had obviously thought Honda had ceased to exist, just dropped out of reality for the moment. That, or more likely Ryou had dropped out of reality and neglected to take Honda with him.  
  
She had been named Sakura. She was pretty and perfect, just like that flower. He had liked her. She had made him feel all funny, but he forgave her, because it was nice in a way. She was nice. It was a shame he'd gotten rid of her. It was a same he'd never saved her. It was a shame a single wooden tear forever marred her pretty little face. Perhaps he'd been afraid she'd reject him if he set her free. Now he had her forever. And she had never blamed him, she had only cried.  
  
But really, it was a shame he'd worse than killed her.  
  
"Bakura."  
  
He turned around to face the boy, broken out of his musings, brown eyes wide and scared, pools of emotion.  
  
Honda bit his lip; he hadn't been _trying_ to make the boy go all "deer in the headlights" and "I'm gonna die!" on him. He could tell the boy was, in the midst of his shock, seriously contemplating running as fast as he could, or getting mou hitori no Bakura to threaten Honda into silence, and then running away.  
  
"Why don't we go someplace else to talk? I don't think the park is the best distraction to get away and think anymore," Honda said placidly, waving his arm out in a sweeping gesture. "Too many people."  
  
Ryou nodded numbly, rapidly thanking kami-sama in his head repeatedly for Honda's mercy. When Ryou slipped up like that, people always got worried, and then they'd interfere with his problems, and it all ended in death and destruction on many levels.  
  
"We can go to my house," Ryou spoke up after he finished his gratitude, and jumped out of the tree.  
  
Honda complied, following Ryou's example. All he could do was hang along for the ride until Ryou got whatever it was out of his system.  
  
'Bakura just gets weirder and weirder by the day. . . Ya know, I think strange things are just attracted to our little group. . . .'  
  
Honda put his arms behind his head as he walked, trying to think of something to break the silence.  
  
"People space out all the time, you know," he said, calm and offhand in manner.  
  
Ryou turned his head partway around, a small smile playing around his lips. "Oh really?"  
  
Honda nodded solemnly. "Oh yes, really. Why, I've seen Jou space out in class many a time."  
  
"Are you sure he isn't just thinking about his schoolwork?"  
  
Honda winked. "It's always the class before lunch. You decided."  
  
The banters they had were strange. Often, the words were meaningless, full of lighthearted jokes that didn't mean a thing. It was Honda's way of reassuring Bakura, and his way of getting his mind off things. And anyone outside the conversation would just assume it was friends sharing a moment of fun.  
  
They carried on in this strain the whole way to Ryou's apartment, both boys grinning as they reached his door.  
  
"You know, they're right when they say that sometimes you have to take a break from your problems, get away for a while."  
  
Ryou pushed the door lightly open as Honda finished speaking, then turned to face the other boy, the sparkle gone from his eyes, his voice suddenly solemn.  
  
"Yes, but you can't run forever."  
  
'Note to self: get more tact! Oh well, if I've gone this far, I might as well go the rest of the way . . . .'  
  
He followed Ryou inside, the two of them sitting down in the living room. Honda gathered up his resolve, before starting in what he hoped was an offhand tone.  
  
"You know, you worry Yugi and the others sometimes."  
  
Ryou blinked, asking, "I do?"  
  
"Now, would I lie to you?"  
  
"Yes, but not about this," Ryou replied seriously.  
  
"Errr. . . .anyway, Jou seemed to get the impression the other day that you'd been sad. Being the private person you are, they got all fired up and decided it was something horrible."  
  
Ryou bit his lip, staring down at his hands resting in his lap.  
  
"Don't worry, it's probably just because it was such a strange week. They were probably already suspicious because nothing concerning you happened for a while," Honda tried to pacify the distraught boy.  
  
He blinked, a puzzled look coming over his face. "Nani?"  
  
Honda laughed slightly. "You haven't noticed that every bad thing that doesn't involve attempts to steal your item, plus half of the power struggles, involve you? You're a magnet fated to attract misfortune, Bakura."  
  
"That's not a very positive outlook on me. . . ." the silvery-haired boy murmured.  
  
"Just don't stress yourself out. Things pass," Honda advised.  
  
"Sometimes I get the feeling you can read minds."  
  
"Does it scare you?"  
  
"Very much so, Honda-kun." Ryou forced a smile upon his face.  
  
The brunette gave a wry grin. "Well, I guess it's time for me to take my leave." He stood up.  
  
Ryou also got up, following him to the doorway of the living room.  
  
"Sayonara, then."  
  
"Sayonara," Honda replied with a wave.  
  
A soft whisper broke his stride for a moment, causing him to pause and smile to himself.  
  
"Arigato. . ."  
  
Maybe he wasn't so hopeless when it came to people skills after all.  
  
He continued to the door, a moment before all hell broke loose.  
  
((+)~  
  
EVILE CLIFFY!!! MWAHAHA!!!  
  
IMPORTANT!!! I NEED HELP!!! The sooner someone who knows about Duel Monsters cards and what people have in their decks helps me, the sooner the cliffhanger gets resolved ^^ Any takers?  
  
This chapter was a bit longer, ne? -_- Say yesh, peoples . . . .  
  
Avatar: If anyone mentions yaoi or shounen ai about the sakura scene, I _will_ kill you. . . violently. . . . .  
  
Shinju: Awww, isn't he so sweet? ^^ Anyway, please review!  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


	7. Delusions

Soul's Face  
  
Well, I really didn't know what to do with this chapter. It was sort of a filler chapter, and I wanted to continue the format. . . . . but after this chapter I'm screwing the format for a bit ^^ Um, next chapter starts the action in the story. Yay? A few more chapters, maybe a prologue, maybe a sequel if I have any ideas to do it with. I'm open to suggestions! ^^  
  
Strange, kinda different, kinda scary, but I've been in a strange and scary writing mood lately. . . .  
  
Disclaimer: . . . .  
  
Warnings: Excessive use of pronouns and lack of names used ^^ Excessive use of the word again  
  
Japanese:  
  
Shounen chiisai no boku- my little boy  
  
Otou-san- father  
  
Koi- nickname for the one you love, short for koibito  
  
Niisan- older brother. I don't care how many of you disagree, it's what I use  
  
((+)~  
  
So if you're beyond them . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Back again . . .  
  
Home again . . .  
  
All alone again . . .  
  
Far away again . . .  
  
It's almost like being free again . . .  
  
It's a blessing when you forget again . . .  
  
And I'm cursed . . . again . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The inside of the house had a nice, cozy, homey feel. It was lit more from the clear sunlight streaming in the windows than the lights overhead. A very nice pleasant house.  
  
Almost, almost there were faint sounds, as if someone were still there, just beyond reach. Just beyond knowing. . .  
  
A taint of desperation. Everything here was just beyond control. So close, so real, so tangible. . . As if it were real and he was not. . . . As if he were blind to the realities and frozen and bound to a nothing that couldn't exist here. . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Surrender again. . .  
  
Let them find you, take you again . . .  
  
Forget. . . . again . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A little girl laughed in her father's arms.  
  
A woman, a mother, sang.  
  
And a little boy. . .  
  
A little boy . . . .  
  
A little . . .  
  
. . . . shounen chiisai no boku . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A young woman waltzed down the stairs, two children in her arms. Her children, a son and a daughter. They laughed as she bounced down the steps with the grace of a dancer, the smooth and flowing jolts a fun experience.  
  
She twirled on the landing at the bottom, her soft fair hair flowing out behind her and her children shrieking with giggles as they clung to her. The slender woman rubbed noses with each of them before setting them to the floor.  
  
"It's almost time," she announced, her voice light and melodious. The little girl bounced up and down, as children will when excited. The boy simply plopped himself down on the floor to wait.  
  
Soon enough, as the woman had said, something did happen. There was the sound of a car in the driveway, and the children jumped up while crying, "Otou-san, otou-san!"  
  
The woman laughed as the door opened, and she joined the two, skipping around and singing, "Otou-san, otou-san, my koi is home!" She winked at the man in the doorway as she passed him.  
  
He grabbed the closest child, the boy, and lifted him into his arms, tickling his son lightly. "What, you're just going to run around chanting and not give me a hug?"  
  
"Iie, iie!" he squealed, struggling to wrap his short arms around his otou- san in an embrace while being attacked by the nimble fingers.  
  
The little girl wrapped her arms around her father's leg, eager to avoid sharing her niisan's fate.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
But somewhere, I still remember everything. . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A flash of light, of darkness.  
  
A grave.  
  
A second grave, two flowers.  
  
A golden ring.  
  
A home, empty once more.  
  
And a boy, all alone.  
  
Alone. . .  
  
A boy. . .  
  
(a woman's scream)  
  
. . . .shounen chiisai no boku . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Things lurk beneath the surface that I don't even understand anymore.  
  
Somewhere. . . .  
  
Are there answers . . .?  
  
I can't even answer to what I want, anymore.  
  
I just want to sleep . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Please don't wake me up again . . .  
  
I want to dream . . . forever. . .  
  
Again . . .  
  
((+)~  
  
I feel bad not updating for forever and then just leaving you hanging again with this silly chapter . . . . but I think I have another one (with actual action) to type up . . . so . . .  
  
For those that already review the note up here, you can always log out and send one anonymously! ^.~ hint hint and all that  
  
-Windswift Shinju ((+)~ 


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